My "Dead" Alpha Mate Has a Secret Family? Let's Plan Your Funeral for Real! Chapter 1

After my mate died fighting rogues, I opened a small tavern in neutral territory, just outside the Embermaw Pack's lands.

His pack brothers came by most nights.

Tonight, the usual wolves walked in—

then this rookie, Jax, froze when he saw me.

"Wait. Aren't you Alpha Thornfield's ex?"

The room went dead quiet.

Ex?

The man who died was my MATE.

They all knew that. They were at his memorial rite.

But then Jax added.

"Alpha's alive! He even showed us his family photo last week.

"Said he finally found his true mate. His real Luna!"

My hands stopped.

"JAX, SHUT YOUR MOUTH!"

Barrett—Gareth's Beta—shot up and dragged Jax toward the door.

"Kid's wasted. Ignore him, Wren."

Jax fought back. "I'm not drunk! Alpha Thornfield is—"

The door slammed.

Silence.

Every single one of Gareth's pack brothers was staring at the table. Not one met my eyes.

My son Asher pulled my sleeve. "Mom? What's wrong?"

I smiled. Touched his hair.

"Just some silly grown-up stuff, honey."

I turned to Barrett. He'd come back in, forcing a smile that looked all wrong.

"Wren, Jax is brand new. Kid doesn't know his ass from his elbow yet. Got our Alpha mixed up with some Alpha from the Graywolf Ridge. Forget about it."

"Yeah, exactly. I mean, what are the odds two wolves look identical?"

"Right? And everyone knows Gareth. Total hero. The whole damn territory mourned him!"

They kept jumping in, talking over each other.

Every word made my chest tighter.

I'd known Gareth for ten years. Bonded to him for three.

Five years ago, that rogue ambush tore through the west district—and took him with it.

He went back in for one last kid.

The whole block was burning. He didn't even hesitate.

They never found his body. Just his bonding mark ring, warped from the flames.

Since then, I'd been living on what the pack gave me and whatever these wolves slipped me when they thought I wasn't looking. Raised Asher by myself.

I always thought they were doing it for Gareth.

Thought they had my back because that's what pack brothers do.

Now I wasn't sure.

I lifted my glass toward Barrett.

"Appreciate everything you guys have done. Really."

"Don't mention it. That's what we're here for."

He knocked back his drink. Way too fast.

I kept my tone casual. "So what's that Alpha's name?"

Barrett went stiff.

The others dropped their eyes. Fast.

"I don't... I can't remember. It was nothing, Wren. Just a mix-up."

He laughed, but his eyes darted everywhere except at me.

The rest of dinner was painful.

I pushed food around my plate while they made excuses to leave early.

After they left, I put Asher to bed and watched him sleep.

He had Gareth's nose. His jawline. His amber eyes.

It hurt to look at him.

My mate died fighting rogues.

So why did Jax say what he said?

"His new Luna is the only woman he's ever really loved."

Then what the hell was I?

What were the last five years?

Something cold settled in my chest.

I needed answers.

Chapter 2

The next day, I made stew and showed up at Embermaw's territory with a smile plastered on.

Everyone lit up when they saw me.

"Wren! Hey!"

But I caught it—the way their eyes darted away just a little too fast.

Jax wasn't anywhere in sight.

"Barrett, where's Jax? He was pretty wasted last night. Wanted to make sure he's okay."

I kept my voice casual.

Barrett was polishing a ceremonial blade on the memorial wall.

When I spoke, his hand slipped. The thing nearly clattered to the floor.

"Jax? Oh—yeah, pack business. Had to head out this morning."

Ha?

Bullshit. The kid had been here three weeks. His pack oath wasn't even finalized yet. What pack business?

My gaze drifted to the wall behind him.

Dead center: Gareth's photo.

That goddamn face. Those eyes I used to wake up next to.

Below it, carved in stone:

Alpha Gareth Thornfield. Fallen Protector.

Something twisted in my chest.

Next to his portrait was a pack photo from right before the ambush.

Gareth had his arm around my shoulders. We looked stupidly happy.

But suddenly someone else caught my eye.

A woman in the back corner. Pack medic uniform. Dark hair.

She wasn't looking at the camera. She was staring straight at Gareth.

The look on her face made my skin crawl.

It wasn't respect. It was hunger.

I'd never seen her before in my life.

"Barrett. Who's that?"

I pointed.

His face went blank for a second.

"Her? Uh... some temporary healer. Vivienne something. Left after like two weeks. Nobody important."

He tried steering me toward the training yard, talking fast about new recruits.

I nodded. Smiled. Didn't hear a word.

All I could see was that woman's eyes burning into my mate.

The second I got home, I tore through every box Gareth left behind.

Buried at the bottom of his old gear bag, I found it—a locked metal box.

Our "bond box."

We'd made it together the week before we bonded. Said we'd fill it with memories and open it on our fiftieth anniversary.

He was supposed to keep the key safe.

I grabbed a hammer from the shed.

One swing. The lock shattered.

Inside—

A stack of photos. And a leather journal with pressed flowers on the cover.

The photos showed Gareth with her. The woman from the pack house.

Kissing near a lake. Wrapped around each other in the woods. Laughing under a full moon.

My hands were shaking so hard I almost dropped them.

I opened the journal.

The handwriting was neat. Looping. Careful.

Page after page of obsession.

[Why did he bond with her? She's not even wolf-born. She doesn't GET him like I do.]

[He told me he loves me. So why does he still share her bed?]

[Gareth PROMISED. After this next hunt, he's done. He's leaving her. He said he wants to build a life with me and our pup.]

Our pup.

The world stopped. I forgot how to breathe.

I flipped to the last page.

Tucked inside was an ultrasound printout.

Name at the top: Vivienne Ashford.

The date was six years ago.

A full year before Asher was born.

Chapter 3

My world ended.

Everything I thought we had—five years of grief, five years of loyalty to a dead mate—it was all bullshit.

The "hero" I'd been mourning didn't just cheat.

He had a whole other life. A pup OLDER than our son Asher!

The bile rose so fast I barely made it to the bathroom.

I collapsed onto the floor, cheek pressed against the cold tile.

Tears came before I even realized I was crying.

Vivienne Ashford.

I forced my brain to work. Where did I know that name?

Then it hit me.

Right before we bonded, Gareth mentioned some wolf from back home. Said she'd had a thing for him when they were young.

I'd brushed it off. Thought it was nothing.

Turns out it wasn't nothing. It was a goddamn bomb waiting to go off.

I dragged myself up and went back to the box.

Under the photos and journal, there was one more thing.

A letter. Never sent.

Gareth's handwriting.

[Viv,

Almost time.

That rogue ambush I told you about? It's happening next week. Wren's supposed to be there on a job—I made sure of it.

When things go down, she won't make it out. Everyone will think it was just another attack.

Then I'm officially dead. New name, new pack.

Give it a few months for things to cool off, then I'm coming to get you and our boy.

No more hiding. No more waiting.

We're finally going to be the family we should've been from the start.

I love you.]

At the bottom, a stupid wolf paw print.

I read it three times before it sank in. Each word burned into my skull.

He didn't fight those rogues to protect anyone.

He set it up to KILL ME.

He'd planned the whole thing. Meant to have me torn apart so he could disappear with another woman.

But something went wrong.

I didn't die. He 'did.'

So what actually happened five years ago?

Think. Think.

That night—

I was supposed to be at the west district. I'd taken a job photographing some neutral zone deal.

But that evening, Gareth called. His voice was off. Too quiet. Almost... sad.

He said he had a bad feeling. Told me to cancel the job and take Asher to my mom's for a few days.

Said he'd already arranged transport. Left the tickets on the dresser.

I thought he was being protective.

Turns out he wasn't protecting me. He was getting me out of the way.

He needed everyone to think I was supposed to be there—

but he couldn't risk me actually showing up.

Because he still NEEDED me alive. At least long enough for the bond to break properly when he "died"!

My press pass!

I'd been running late. Grabbed my camera bag but left my ID and permit in the car—parked right at the district edge!

After the ambush, they found a body. Unrecognizable. My ID near it.

Everyone thought it was me.

But when they checked, the wolf signature didn't match.

The case went cold. And I was too broken by Gareth's death to care.

So he'd found a replacement.

Some poor woman killed in my place!

Who the fuck murders an innocent person just to run off with his side piece?!

I couldn't stop shaking.

Not from fear.

From pure, burning rage!

Gareth. Vivienne. Barrett. Every single wolf who knew the truth—

They were ALL going to PAY!

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